Official Match Thread Season 37 Round 14 - Coney Island Warriors v Fighting Furies at Van Corlandt Park

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I'd hate to see what someone with a badge entitled "Zombie Lover" finds gross.

I can tolerate a lot, but post 149 in this thread would've had me clutching at my pearls.
 
Hey Snuffaluphagus we have another pearl clutcher here.
fire destroy GIF
 
Story Time
The Duality Paradox

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In the heart of the city, where skyscrapers reached for the heavens and the hum of fluorescent lights echoed through the streets, there lived a man named Edward. He was a cog in the corporate machine, a faceless worker who shuffled papers, attended meetings, and stared at spreadsheets until his eyes blurred. The monotony of his existence weighed on him like an anchor, dragging him deeper into the abyss of routine.

Edward's days blurred together—a never-ending cycle of coffee breaks, elevator rides, and sterile office cubicles. His colleagues knew him as the quiet guy who always wore a gray tie and never cracked a smile. But deep within, a fire smoldered—a longing for something more, something beyond the fluorescent-lit corridors of his nine-to-five life.

One rainy evening, as Edward sat in his cramped apartment, staring at the flickering TV screen, he felt the walls closing in. The news anchor droned on about stock market fluctuations and political scandals. Edward's alter ego stirred—a whisper in the back of his mind, urging him to break free.

And so, he did.

Edward donned a leather jacket, slicked back his hair, and stepped out into the neon-lit streets. His alter ego emerged—a charismatic rebel who reveled in chaos. He called himself "Eclipse." Eclipse danced through the rain-soaked alleys, leaving graffiti on walls and stealing kisses from strangers. For the first time, Edward felt alive.

But as the days turned into weeks, Eclipse's antics grew darker. He disrupted board meetings, sabotaged projects, and left cryptic messages scrawled in red paint. Edward watched helplessly as his alter ego spiraled out of control. The line between the two blurred—a duality that threatened to consume him.

One fateful night, Eclipse led Edward to an abandoned warehouse. The rain drummed on the corrugated roof, and the air smelled of damp concrete. In the dim light, Eclipse revealed a mirror—a tarnished, ancient thing that seemed to hold secrets beyond comprehension.

"Look," Eclipse whispered, his eyes wild. "See who you truly are."

Edward gazed into the mirror, and the reflection wavered. His face split—a fractured mosaic of Edward and Eclipse. The mirror whispered truths—the kind that shattered sanity. Edward's true identity lay hidden beneath layers of conformity, fear, and suppressed desires.

He reached out, desperate to reclaim himself, but the mirror resisted. Eclipse laughed—a hollow sound that echoed through the empty warehouse. "You can't have it both ways, Edward. Choose."

And so, Edward chose. He shattered the mirror, shards of glass slicing his skin. The pain was exquisite—a baptism of fire. As the pieces fell, he felt himself unraveling. Eclipse vanished, leaving only a void—an emptiness that consumed him.

But the story didn't end there.

Edward woke in a hospital bed, bandages covering his hands. His memories were fragmented—Eclipse, the mirror, the choice. He returned to work, but the gray tie felt like a noose. His colleagues whispered about the mysterious graffiti artist who had vanished overnight.

And then, the undesired alter ego emerged. Edward became "Specter"—a shadowy figure who haunted the city's underbelly. He stole secrets, manipulated stocks, and reveled in chaos. But unlike Eclipse, Specter felt no joy. He was a puppet, dancing to unseen strings.

The city trembled as Specter's influence grew. Edward fought against the tide, desperate to reclaim his true self. But the mirror was shattered, and Eclipse was gone. He was trapped—a man torn between three identities: Edward, Eclipse, and Specter.

And so, the duality paradox consumed him—the monotony of work, the chaos of rebellion, and the darkness of unintended consequences. Edward wondered if he'd ever find redemption—if the fractured pieces of his soul could ever be whole again.

As the rain continued to fall, he stood on the rooftop, staring at the city below. The neon lights blurred, and he whispered to the wind, "Who am I?"

But the wind carried no answers—only the distant wail of sirens and the relentless beat of the rat race.
 
Upon reflection, I have come to realise that I may have been a little mean when posting spider photos yesterday to trigger spudmaster's arachnophobia.

In the interests of openness and accountability, I will now post photos of what I am truly terrified of.

WARNING: EXTREMELY TRIGGERING CONTENT!!

Aww was it just the raggedy twins you found creepy? Or all dolls? Put them in a drain with a balloon and I can sort of see the IT resemblance.

The Raggy Dolls were okay, yeah?

 

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Aww was it just the raggedy twins you found creepy? Or all dolls? Put them in a drain with a balloon and I can sort of see the IT resemblance.

The Raggy Dolls were okay, yeah?



Not dolls in general, just those raggedy twins.

Utter nightmare fuel.

Look into their eyes and you too will understand the expression, "take care when looking into the void, lest the void look into you."
 
Raveneyes first wazzah to 300, fantastic effort my friend.

Hope the sim does the righteous and deliver a random win for you.

300 games for 1 SFA club is a combination of dedication and mindless striving for our first flag.
 
Raveneyes first wazzah to 300, fantastic effort my friend.

Hope the sim does the righteous and deliver a random win for you.

300 games for 1 SFA club is a combination of dedication and mindless striving for our first flag.
To stick around Coney Island for such a sustained period of time says a lot.

A hell of a lot.
 

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